Seize the Day
by spiritypowers
Summary: When the newsboys of Republic City are unable to afford the price raise, Kai Fong organizes a strike. Jinora, a new reporter on the scene, follows the events of the strike by the byline of Jinora Wen. But as the strike leader and the reporter grow closer, lines are crossed. The truth comes out one way or another, and they both know how much words can hurt. / A Kainora Newsies AU
1. Dreams of Zaofu

A pained grunt roused Kai from the depths of sleep, and the breeze of early morning Republic City kept him awake long enough to hear a few more grunts, along with his best friend's mutterings of "Shit!" between each groan. Kai sat up in his worn-down sleeping bag and rubbed his eyes, blinking blearily a few times when he saw Skoochy limping towards the fire escape.

"Where're ya goin'?" Kai asked, pushing himself out of the sleeping bag. Skoochy stopped short, leaning against his old wooden crutch.

"I-"

"The bell ain't rung yet," Kai grumbled, taking a seat on the edge of the rooftop. "Go back to sleep."

"I wanna beat the other fellas to the streets," Skoochy admitted. "I don't want anyone to see that I ain't been…uh…walkin' so good." He turned his face away as his left leg hung lamely next to his solid right one. Of course, all the boys knew that Skoochy's bum leg had been an affliction for over the past decade, but what had started as a slight limp back when he was six years old had escalated into a completely useless leg, the ankle turning up slightly toward his inner calf. Kai just rolled his eyes.

"Oh, quit gripin'," he said, nudging Skoochy lightly. "You know how many guys fake a limp for sympathy? That bum leg of yours is a goldmine!"

It was true; Skoochy sold the second most newspapers out of all the boys in the boarding house. Second only to Kai himself, of course. The only thing that was better than a bum leg as a newsie was the ability to find a good, pitiable partner and a good line to really reel the suckers in.

Skoochy shook his head at Kai. "Man, if someone gets the idea that I can't make it on my own, they'll lock me up in the Refuge for good."

Kai's smile faded, and he nodded solemnly. Dim memories of candlelight and crowded beds flooded his mind, and he shoved them away quickly. He hardly noticed when Skoochy had begun to descend the ladder, when he heard a clattering and saw his friend dangling by one hand. Kai nearly jumped off the ledge to pull Skoochy back up, and once he was seated next to him again, Kai swatted the back of his head.

"You wanna bust your other leg, too?" Kai scolded, and Skoochy looked away with a small pout.

"I just wanted to get down," he muttered, crossing his arms. Kai sighed at him and shook his head.

"We'll be down there soon enough. No need to rush off to the day, kid. Sun's only just comin' up." Kai rested his hands on either side of him and leaned back, looking up at the sky above him. In the midst of the smog, grime, and city lights, a few stars twinkled at him, winking like they shared a secret. "For now, just take a moment. Drink in my penthouse. High above the stinkin' streets of Republic City."

Skoochy scoffed at him. "You're crazy."

Kai shot him a look. "Why, 'cause I like a breath of fresh air? 'Cause I like seein' the sky and the stars?"

"You're seein' stars, alright," Skoochy said, shoving Kai's shoulder. Kai pushed back lightly, shooting Skoochy a small grin, which he returned. "Why do you hate the streets so much anyway?" Kai's smile faded, and he frowned as the sun began to rise, coloring the skyscraper-pierced horizon orange and yellow.

The past ten years without any family, hawking newspapers to get by had only accumulated a resentment for the glistening city that never slept. He knew far too well that the streets themselves, littered with broken glass bottles and broken people, were far from glistening.

"They suck the life outta ya," Kai replied simply. "But they ain't doin' that to me." He clenched his jaw, taking in a long breath of cool morning air through his nose, as if the air above the grit and grime would somehow cleanse him of a life on the streets.

"But everyone wants to come to Republic City."

Kai snorted and shook his head. "Republic City's fine, for those who got a big, strong door to lock it out." He looked out longingly at the sunrise, referencing it for a cleaner, brighter version he'd tried to paint in his mind's eye ever since he'd seen a painting in a pamphlet five years ago. A sunrise over clean air and short, stout houses, full of trees brimming with crisp green leaves. "I've been tellin' you, Skooch, there's whole 'nother way out there." Kai looked at Skoochy with wistful eyes, and Skoochy would've rolled his own if he hadn't already every damn time Kai brought up that stupid pamphlet painting. "You keep your small life in the big city. But give me a big life, in a small town."

"I know, Kai. Zaofu: a spankin' new town out West. What're you even gonna do there?"

Kai laughed. "What aren't I gonna do there? Plantin' crops, splittin' rails, sharin' tales around the fire with folks that welcome you in like family. No havin' to beg anyone to treat me fair 'n square. Just chasin' the sun and workin' the land."

Skoochy snorted at him. "You really are crazy, Kai Fong."

The corners of Kai's mouth tugged up into a smile and he shoved Skoochy. "Maybe." Then, as an idea sprung into his head, he clapped Skoochy on the back and grinned. "Hey, how 'bout an even crazier idea: come with me. Someday, we can catch a train to Zaofu, and just you and me."

Skoochy's eyebrows shot up behind his long, greasy black bangs. "You'd bring me with you?"

"For sure," Kai said, grinning widely. "We're family, after all."

Skoochy rolled his eyes, unable to keep his smile reigned in. "Sap," he said, but then added in a softer voice, "Yeah. We're family."

"No one cares about no gimp leg in Zaofu. You just hop one of them ostrich horses, and you'll be ridin' in style!"

Skoochy laughed a barking laugh that seemed to rumble in time with the reach of the sun's rays. "Imagine me, ridin' in style."

"Y'know, I bet after a few months of clean air, you could toss that crutch for good!"

Skoochy snorted again. "Now that's crazy. Still, not as bad as far as dreamin' goes."

Kai grinned. "Not bad indeed. So, whaddya say?" Kai hocked a lob of saliva into his hand and extended it to Skoochy. "We got ourselves a deal?"

Skoochy looked at him for a moment, before spitting into his own hand and shaking Kai's extended one. "We got a deal."


	2. The Walk to Work

The reality of Kai Fong's life was that he did not, in fact, live in a small, clean town. He lived in a boarding house that was too filthy and dilapidated for anyone but a bunch of desperate teenage boys to be willing to live in. Tenzin Gyatso, one of the leading newspaper sellers, had been generous enough to offer it to the newsboys as living quarters, as most of them didn't have parents, let alone an actual home. As long as they were ready to go out into the streets of Republic City to sell his papers at the sound of each morning's bell (the only thing working properly in that dump), the boys were allowed to stay for as long as they needed to.

If only Mr. Gyatso could be bothered to check if his living quarters were actually livable. Still, Kai couldn't complain. It was better than sleeping in the rain, anyway.

Kai stepped over the scattered cots, lightly kicking sleeping boys awake. How they managed to sleep through the bell's screech, he'd never know. Skoochy was behind him nudging people awake with his crutch.

"Get a move on! Them papes ain't gonna sell themselves!"

The building filled with the groans of the unwillingly awake, the rustling of shoving sheets away and the clamoring of post-pubescent boys trying to clean themselves up in any way they could, from shaking the dirt out of their shirts and scrubbing themselves as best they could with the one bar of soap in the building. Buckets of cold water were passed around to those that had actually bothered to make an effort to clean away the grime of the city. Not that they'd succeed, but they were always welcome to try.

"Papes ain't movin' like they used to." Kai's ears perked up at the conversation to the left of him, and he turned to see Jun and Lee speaking in hushed tones, their newsboy caps crooked on their heads. Lee sighed and crossed his arms. "I need a new sellin' spot."

"Try any banker or barber," Jun said, scratching at his wispy mustache. "Almost all of them knows how to read."

Kai shook his head to himself as he took his own cap off one of the hooks and shoved it over his messy hair. They could sell papers to as many literate schmucks as they wanted, but it wouldn't matter as long as Gyatso kept pushing out the same tired old headlines.

He made his way down the stairs, helping Skoochy along each step, till they reached the first floor and burst out the doors. The smell of cigar smoke and preserved meat hit Kai's nostrils as soon as he stepped outside, and he wrinkled his nose before continuing out.

Well, that part of Republic City had never been known for its smell. Or anything but poverty, really.

He, Skoochy, and the other newsboys made a slow trail towards the newsstand – the one for the newsies, anyway. News got around faster if there were kids running around selling them off than if people just manned newsstands. No matter how uncouth and scruffy the newsies were, the news depended on their willingness to run around Republic City with messenger bags and loud mouths. The only things faster than them were the news wagons, but there weren't enough of those to go around. Not as many as newsies, anyway, and wagons couldn't yell out more seasoned versions of the stale headlines they were forced to work with.

"Y'know what would sell more papes?" Skoochy said. Kai nearly let out a heavy sigh.

"What, Skooch?"

"Actual news."

Kai snorted – okay, that one was pretty good.

The group in their floppy caps and loose, thread-bare vests lingered outside the church on the way, waiting for their daily breakfast. Their meals came from the nuns inside, who were generous to feed them, even if none of them would ever step foot inside during service.

Kai leaned back against a wall, watching the people go by, sighing to himself as some of the more well-to-do pedestrians grumbled at the congestion along the sidewalk or bumped into one of them without so much as an apology. As long as these saps were willing to keep paying them for bad news, Kai found he couldn't complain.

A figure bumped into him and he was about to snap at them to watch where they were going when a soft voice murmured an embarrassed "Sorry," and sheets of paper scattered everywhere.

"Don't worry 'bout it," Kai muttered, bending down to help pick up the papers around them. He looked up to see the person that had bumped into him, and for a moment he forgot where he was.

The girl he'd bumped into – _definitely_ a girl, made of soft sloping curves and skin like cream – was busily picking up papers, her soft eyebrows furrowed in frustration, muttering inaudibly to herself as she tried to shove them back into a neat pile in her hand. Her brown hair fell past her shoulders and curled up at the ends, around her face and neck, and her long, thin fingers had splotches of ink along the tips and running down her right pinky. The smudges of ink stood out against her fair skin and her otherwise clean presentation. Her white blouse was tucked into the tight waist of her yellow skirt, which flared out from her small hips and bunched around on the ground as she leaned over to pick up the last piece of paper.

"Excuse me, sir?" The girl's voice brought Kai's attention back up into her face, and his eyes met her brown ones, wide and focused and so very acutely aware of the world around her. "Sir, my papers?"

"Oh, right. Sorry," Kai said, handing them to her.

She smiled softly. "Thanks."

They both stood up, and before the girl had a chance to take her leave, Kai said, "May I interest you in the latest news this morning, Miss?"

Kai nearly kicked himself. They hadn't even got the papers yet. He could hear Skoochy snickering behind him, and he made a mental note to give the guy a good beating with his own crutch later.

The girl raised an eyebrow. "The newspaper isn't even out yet."

With a breath and a grin, Kai took a step closer to the girl. He could make this work. He'd always been able to make these things work. "I'd be delighted to deliver it to you…personally."

The girl's eyes widened with comprehension at exactly what he was trying to do, and she stepped away, her eyes taking on steel and meeting his. "I have a headline for you: 'Cheeky Boy Gets Nothing for His Troubles.'" Kai's eyebrows lifted in mild surprise, and the girl pursed her lips as if trying not to look too pleased with herself before walking past. Skoochy's snickers turned into barking laughter.

He slung his arm around Kai's shoulders. "Back to the bench, slugger, 'cause you just struck out!" Kai shoved him off.

"Like you could do better," Kai said, pulling Skoochy's hat over his eyes and ruffling his long, greasy hair. Skoochy shoved him back and Kai let out an easy laugh in spite of his recent flub – that had been the first and hopefully last time he'd struck out so _badly_ with a girl. Kai supposed it was for the best; they clearly didn't run around in the same circles.

"Hey, Skoochy!" A voice interrupted them and they looked up to see Otaku, a pudgy newsie that always seemed to be the last one out of the boarding house. "What's the leg say? Gonna rain?"

Skoochy exchanged a knowing glance with Kai – they'd both made the leg into a bit of a superstition over the past year, and it still floored them that something so simple had actually stuck – and he brought his busted leg up to his chest, supporting himself against his crutch, and looked into the distance, nodding every so often, as if listening to his knee's whispers.

"Mm, no rain," Skoochy said, before breaking out into a smile. "Oh-ho! Partly cloudy, clear by evenin'." He released his leg as Lee practically collided into them, ruffling Skoochy's hair.

"Makes ya wish we could bottle this guy!" he exclaimed, and Skoochy shoved him off with a grin as Kai laughed.

"And that limp sells at least fifty papes on its own," Otaku added in admiration. Skoochy scoffed.

"I don't need the limp to sell papes." Skoochy straightened himself up as much as he could and tugged the end of his vest straight, puffing out his chest. "I've got personality."

"As wooden as your crutch?" Kai teased, and every newsie within earshot let out a loud "Ooh," as Skoochy shoved at Kai's head.

"Smartass," Skoochy muttered, shaking his head. "You know what it takes to sell papes? A smile that spreads like butter, the kind that turns a lady's head. Just like mine," he said, grinning to himself.

"It turns a lady's head, alright. Away to protect her poor eyes," Kai said, earning another shove to the head.

"Says the guy who just got turned down faster than a bad hand of cards," Skoochy snorted. Another "Ooh," rose from the crowd around them, and Kai shook his head.

"Never gonna let me live that down, are ya?"

Skoochy flashed Kai a cheeky grin. "Nope." He was met with a shove to his arm when the church doors opened.

Three nuns draped in black glided through the group of boys with full trays of bread and small glasses of water and coffee. How the nuns kept their habits on with several teenagers clamoring for the sustenance they provided, Kai didn't know, but he was grateful they put up with it anyway. God knew the newsies would be outright starving without the charity of the Lower Republic City church.

Kai nodded at the eldest nun as he took a piece of bread. "Thanks for the grub, Sister Iio."

"Always our pleasure to do the Lord's work," the nun replied with a soft smile. "But when will be seeing you boys _inside_ the church?"

Skoochy came up next to Kai. "I dunno, but it's bound to rain sooner or later," he said, and Kai couldn't help but snort even as Sister Iio rolled her eyes and shook her head at them.

Bless those nuns and their boundless patience.

Kai ripped his piece of bread in half and pocketed the larger piece before chowing down on what remained. After a swig of both coffee and water, he joined Skoochy as they migrated the rest of the way down to the _World_ 's newsstand.

That was the newspaper's name. The _World_. The words shone in large, metallic letters on the gates to the newsstand, with the "w" dented along its right edge. Kai pressed his hands against the bars of the gate, along with as many newsies as could crowd the tiny entrance.

He stared at the blank chalkboard near the newsstand and watched with bated breath as the sour-faced seller walked up to the board to write the day's headline in white, blocky letters.

"I hope it's a good, bloody headline with a clear picture," murmured one of the boys next to him. Kai silently agreed; everyone knew the most disastrous headlines sold the most papers.

When Zhao walked away back to his place behind the stand, Kai's eyes scanned the writing, and every newsie within viewing distance collectively groaned.

The chalkboard read: "Headline Today: Trolley Strike Enters Third Week."


	3. Carrying the Banner

"That snoozer again?" Skoochy wailed loudly over the chorus of groans. Kai scowled, and silently cursed Tenzin Gyatso for putting out such boring headlines.

No matter how much the boys tried to keep sales up, there was only so much they could do if readers weren't willing to spend fifteen minutes updating themselves on the trolley strike. And from the little Kai had read of it, the trolley strike was…well, boring. To explain why the trolley wasn't running only took about two paragraphs, so precious newspaper space was often filled with the opinions of either Mr. Gyatso or his co-owner, Mr. Tarrlok, which were also boring. Some of the stories by their other reporters were a little more interesting, but headlines sold papers. If the headlines didn't send readers into a panic, the newsies would have to get by on the scraps the Lower Republic City nuns could spare.

It was a crummy living, having to depend on how sensational a headline was for the next meal, but at least it was a living at all.

Three rounded figures hobbled over to the gate, and Kai knew who they were even before one of the boys yelled, "Oh dear me, what is that unpleasant aroma? I fear the sewers may have backed up during the night."

A round, red face scowled at them from the other side of the gate, joined by two more similar-looking faces. The Chou brothers, hired muscle for the World's headquarters in Lower Republic City, never failed to make Kai's stomach feel like milk curdling. Still, it was fun to mess with them, and if the newsies were good at anything, it was messing with the Chou brothers.

The youngest unlocked and opened the gates with a sneer. "At least I can be bothered to take a proper bath," he said.

"Take as many baths as you want, they ain't gonna wash the blood off your hands," another boy shot back.

"Yeah, word on the street is you guys took money to beat up striking trolley workers," Skoochy said, approaching the middle Chou. He tilted his chin up slightly. "What's that about?"

The man shrugged. "It's honest work."

Lee came up next to Skoochy. "Crackin' the heads of defenseless workers?"

"Hey, I take care of the guy who takes care of me," he said, crossing his arms.

"Ain't your father one of strikers?"

He gave them a smug grin. "Guess he didn't take care of me," he said, giving Lee a shove. Lee shoved him back, and Skoochy let out and indignant shout.

"What, you want some of this, too, you lousy crip?" Before Kai could react, Skoochy's crutch was ripped away from him and he was shoved to the ground. He was hit in the arm with the brunt of the crutch for good measure, and at Skoochy's pained cry, a several of the boys came to his aid, glaring down the Chous.

"HEY!" Kai was at the forefront of the crowd now, staring down all three brothers as best as he could. He grabbed the crutch away from them as the boys murmured behind him – "Five to one Kai skunks 'em," he heard Jun whisper – and said, "One unfortunate day you might find you got a bum gam of your own, how'd you like us pickin' on you, huh?"

The eldest Chou, larger and taller than any of the newsies, walked closer to Kai, forcing him to look up. "What're you gonna do about it?"

Kai's stomach lurched, but he never faltered, as he forced a smirk and turned to the boys behind him. "Hey, what do you guys say we find out?" At the prompting of a few cheers, Kai turned back to the Chous, and as the three pudgy men grew ready to pounce, Kai hit them firmly in the shins, causing each to fall in succession, like dominos toppling over each other. Kai exchanged a grin with Skoochy as he handed him his crutch and helped him back up, and the newsies enjoyed a good laugh as the Chous struggled to get onto their wobbling legs.

"Just wait till I get my hands on you!" the eldest grumbled, falling on his face when he tried to stand up. Kai laughed as he and the other newsies ran over to the stand, Skoochy making great distance even with one disabled leg.

"You'll have to catch me first!" Kai yelled back.

The newsstand was stacked to the waist with fresh newspapers, still warm from the printing press. The smell of fresh paper and just-dried ink wafted through the crowd of boys, who all took their off-white messenger bags off the hooks on the side of the stand. Kai slung his around his neck and leaned back against one of the parked wagons while Skoochy regaled one of the boys that had been too far back to see what had occurred just moments before.

They had all just caught their breath when Zhao came around to the back of the stand and yelled, "Papes! Papes for the newsies! Line up!"

The boys slowly filed into a sloppy, zigzagging line, Kai taking the front. He tipped his hat to the amber-eyed balding man, his frown deepening at the sight of him. "Mornin', Zhao. How's the lady back home?"

"I'm not married," Zhao grumbled back.

"I know. I was talkin' 'bout your mother."

Zhao narrowed his eyes at Kai. "You little-"

Kai slapped a gold piece on one of the stacks and shot Zhao a grin. "The usual, please."

Zhao never took his eyes off Kai as he took the coin, placed it into a tin box, and pulled a stack of newspapers off one of the piles. He shoved it at kai. "One hundred papes for the wise guy," Zhao said through gritted teeth.

"Thank ya," Kai said with another tip of his hat. He slid his papers into his bag and leaned against the wagon again to wait for Skoochy.

He was recounting his papers when he heard Zhao say, "Hey look, it's a couple o' new kids!"

Kai looked up absentmindedly. Surely enough, there were two boys while fair skin, one with a more serious demeanor and the other with a good-natured smile and a stockier build. On the latter's shoulder was a fluffy, wide-eyed fire ferret. Both looked a few years older him, probably no older than 20 years old.

"Yeah," the taller, more serious one said. "Uh, I'll take 20 papers."

"You'll take 'em when I see the silver piece," Zhao said, crossing his arms.

"I'll pay you after I've sold them," the new guy said, and Kai couldn't help but snort.

"Very funny," Zhao said, unenthused. "Come on, cash up."

"But whatever we don't sell, you'll buy back, right?"

This time Zhao actually laughed. "Yeah, and every time you lose a tooth, I put a copper piece under your pillow!" He snorted. "You're a riot. Now come on, cough up the cash and move it along."

The young man let out an exasperated sigh and placed the silver piece in Zhao's meaty hand, who snatched it, dropped it into his tin, and shoved a short stack of papers into the new guy's hands.

Kai watched the two boys step to the side, and the older one started counting his papers slowly while the younger scratched the top of his fire ferret's head. At the stand, Lee made a remark about Zhao's face, and Kai snickered when the new guy spoke up again.

"Um, sir? Sorry, excuse me," he said, taking a place back in front of the stand, "but I paid for 20 papers, and you gave me 19."

Zhao shook his head. "See how nice I was to the new kid," he said. "What do I get for my civility? Ungrounded accusations?"

The new guy's brow furrowed, and he let out a slow breath, as if to keep himself calm. "I just want what I paid for," he said quietly.

Zhao scowled at him. "I said beat it, kid."

Kai walked up to the new guy and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around, Kai held out his hand. "May I?"

He raised an eyebrow, but handed over the papers anyway, and went to counting as he and Zhao continued to argue. _1, 2, 3, 4, 5…_

"Hey, Zhao," Kai said once he was done counting. "New guy's right. You gave him 19." He handed it back to the man. "I'm sure it was an honest mistake, on account of how you can't count to 20 with your shoes on."

Skoochy let out a barking laugh a ways away from him as Zhao shot Kai a dirty look. He shoved one more newspaper at the younger new guy.

"Here's your paper," he snapped. "Now take a hike."

As the two brothers began to leave, Kai slapped a few silver pieces on one of the piles again. "Give 50 more papes to the new guys."

The older boy stared at Kai in irritation. "I don't want more papes," he said, pushing the money back towards Kai.

Kai crossed his arms and gave him a questioning look. "What kinda newsie don't want more papes?"

"I'm no charity case! I don't even know you, kid."

Kai rolled his eyes, but the younger man tugged on his brother's sleeve. "That's Kai!"

Skoochy slung his free arm around Kai's shoulders before he'd even realized he'd come up next to him. "Yeah, this here is the famous Kai Fong! He once escaped jail on the back of Governor Bumi Gyatso's carriage. It made all the papes!"

Kai shoved Skoochy away with a small smile. He did enjoy that story.

He turned to the younger man and nodded at the fire ferret on his shoulder. "Who's the furball?"

"Oh! This is Pabu," he said.

"Can he do any tricks?"

"A few, he can balance a grape on his nose, and do a few somersaults, and-"

"Can he play sick?"

"What?"

Kai reached out and scratched Pabu's head. "A sick pet sells more papes. If you wanna be partners-"

"Who said we want a partner?" the older one said, placing a hand on his hip. Kai turned to him and gave him a hard look as Skoochy clapped him on the back.

"Sellin' with Kai is the chance of a lifetime! If you learn from him, you learn from the best," Skoochy said, giving Kai a wide grin before turning back to the new boys.

"If he's the best, then what's he need with us?" the elder one asked.

Kai shrugged. "You both got a cute pet and I don't. With that plus, we could easily sell a thousand papes a week." He turned back to the younger brother. "Can you tell him to look sad?"

"Look sad, Pabu!" the younger man said, and the fire ferret immediately stuck out his tiny bottom lip, widening his black, glistening eyes, making them tremble as if tears were about to leak out. Kai grinned and gave the younger man a light, friendly punch to the shoulder.

"We're gonna make millions!" he exclaimed.

The younger man beamed at him. "This is my older brother, Mako," he said, "and I'm Bolin!"

"Nice to meet you, fellas," Kai said. "My two bits come off the top, and we split everything else 70/30." He turned around to leave, when he heard a loud cough from behind.

"Get back here," came Mako's voice, and Kai turned around slowly, crossing his arms. "We split it 50/50," the amber-eyed man demanded. "You wouldn't try to pull a fast one on a couple of new guys, would you?"

Kai took a step closer, narrowing his eyes. "We split 60/40 to start. Final offer."

Mako stared straight back, but after a moment's silence, said, "Fine."

The corners of Kai's lips lifted up into a grin, and he brought his hand up to his mouth and spat into the middle of his palm, then extended the hand out to both of them. Mako looked at Kai hesitantly while Bolin spit into his own hand and gave Kai's a hearty shake. Mako grimaced.

"That's disgusting."

Kai shrugged as he let go of Bolin's hand. "That's business." He turned the other boys – the last of them was just getting his own papers – and called out, "Newsies! Get to the streets! The sun is up, the headline stinks, and we ain't gettin' any younger!" A few sighs escaped the crowd, but they all walked out en masse, Skoochy limping close behind Kai.

Another day, another impossible headline to hawk. Well, no one ever said carrying the banner of news was easy, but someone had to do it. As long as they were able to eat something other than church bread, it wasn't such a bad life. Was it?


	4. The Bottom Line

Tenzin Gyatso looked over the week's charts for the fifth time in a row, the tension building in his eyebrow muscles as he furrowed them. He set down the report, sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

His partner and his secretary looked at him expectantly, and Tenzin gave another sigh. "As you both know, the _World_ …is in trouble."

"A bit melodramatic, isn't it?" Izumi cracked a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood. Neither of the men laughed.

"Our circulation is down the third quarter in a row," Tenzin continued. "And I'm running out of ideas."

Izumi shrugged. "We could use an exciting headline."

"Well, what do we have for today?" Tarrlok asked.

"The trolley strike. Again," Izumi said blandly.

Tarrlok frowned. "What's wrong with the trolley strike? Starving working battling the profiteering trolley companies played out before the suffering of the innocent, riding public. It's epic."

"It's boring," Izumi replied. "Folks just wanna know: is the trolley comin' or not? No one cares why, certainly not enough for it to be a headliner."

"Plus, I hear the strike's just about to be settled," Tenzin said. "The Governor put his support behind the workers." He shook his head bitterly. "I swear, that man's a socialist."

Izumi raised an eyebrow. "He's your brother. And as far as our readers are concerned, a hero across all four nations."

"No, he's right," Tarrlok muttered. "That man is trouble."

"Be honest: neither of you liked that he was gaining popularity in the polls from the very beginning, God knows why." She turned to the ponytailed-man, meeting his cool blue eyes with little hesitation. "Mr. Tarrlok, you ran an editorial against him day after day. And now guess what?" She shot a pointed look between the two co-owners. "He's the governor."

"Well, how can I influence elections when no one is reading my paper?" Tarrlok snapped. "Which brings us back to the problem at hand: we need to sell more papers. And the way to do that is…?"

"Big pictures attract more readers," Izumi suggested. Both Tarrlok and Tenzin made a face.

"And bill collectors," Tenzin said. "Do you know how much big pictures cost?"

Izumi let out an exasperated sigh. "Well, if we can't attract readers with big pictures or headlines-"

"There's an answer right before our eyes, we just need to think this through," Tarrlok muttered, only half to Izumi and Tenzin, as he stared at the floor in thought. There were several moments of silence before any of them spoke again.

"Maybe we could cut back personnel?" Tenzin offered tentatively. "I hate to put anyone out of work, but-"

"No," Tarrlok said. "We're in a war against the _Journal_ and the _Sun_ , Mr. Gyatso. You don't cut troops when you're heading into battle."

"A few salary trims?" Izumi tried.

Tarrlok shot her a sour look. "Yes, starting with yours." Izumi frowned.

"Maybe simply lowering the price of the paper?" Tenzin said. He regretted putting that option on the table almost immediately as Tarrlok frowned deeply at him.

"Yes, bankrupting us even faster!" Tarrlok glared at Tenzin. "Our goal is to sell _more_ papers. Think it through."

Another several moments of silence passed, when Izumi piped up again.

"Wait, we don't sell papers. The newsies sell papers."

Tarrlok's eyes lit up. "You're onto something. Now, how will _they_ sell more papers…?" He snapped his fingers. "I've got it. Right now, we charge 50 pieces for 100 papers, correct?"

Tenzin leaned back in his chair, eyeing Tarrlok cautiously. "Yes…?"

"What if we raise the price to 60 pieces per 100? They'll have to sell ten more papers just to earn the same as always."

"Excellent idea as always, sir," Izumi said, taking down notes in her notebook. "But it'll be awfully rough on those children."

"That's also my concern, Tarrlok," Tenzin said.

Tarrlok waved his hand dismissively. "They'll be fine. If anything, this'll be good for them; they'll be learning a real-life lesson in economics. Why, I couldn't offer them a better education if they were my own."

"Tarrlok, I'm still not sure-"

"Honestly, Gyatso, they'll be _fine_. I wouldn't be surprised if at the end of the week, they're begging us to raise the price for them even more." Tarrlok straightened his tie, a self-satisfied smile creeping onto his face.

Tenzin let out a heavy sigh. "Very well. The price for the newsies goes up in the morning."

* * *

The sun was low in the sky when Jinora started packing up her papers and notes into the old, thin briefcase. She frowned at the note on her desk reminding her to catch Korra's show that evening for another review. Jinora loved Korra; they'd been childhood friends, and she was happy that she was making a living doing what she loved, but Jinora swore if she had to write one more review for some little vaudeville show in Republic City she was going to lose it.

She was a serious reporter. It would have been nice if someone would finally treat her like it and give her the story she deserved.

"Turning in for the day, Jinora?" Jinora's ears perked up at the sound of Shung's voice, and she smiled sadly, shaking her head.

"Unfortunately, I still have a show to attend later tonight. I get an entire half-page to fill this time," she said, her voice rising in mock-enthusiasm. Shung chuckled sympathetically.

"You'll get your story one day, Miss Gy-"

"Shhh, Shung," Jinora interrupted, her eyes widening. "You know no one other than you and Varrick knows my real name."

"Right. Sorry, Miss _Wen_ ," Shung said, smiling softly. Jinora returned it.

"I'm beginning to doubt Varrick will ever let up and allow me to do a real story, but thanks for the vote of confidence, Shung. You're the only person in this place that doesn't make me want to rip my hair out."

Shung chuckled. "Don't give up so soon, Jinora. You've got a good, honest voice, and a way with words that most of the guys here would kill for. But don't tell them I said that."

Jinora couldn't help but smile. "Thanks. I'll… I'll try. But for now," she said, picking up the note and crumpling it up in her hand, "it's off to more sideshows for me."

"Well, we might be getting more readers anyway, so hopefully enough people like your article, and-"

"More readers?" Jinora's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Haven't you heard? Mr. Tarrlok and Mr. Gyatso have brought up newspaper prices for the newsies. Mr. Varrick and every paper owner in Republic City caught wind of it and have decided to bring it up to 60 pieces, too. Prices are rising all over."

Jinora frowned. "Won't that hurt the newsies?"

"It'll give them extra incentive to sell more papers for sure," Shung said, his smile fading. "Still, it's only ten more pieces. They should be fine."

"Ten pieces they could be using to feed themselves," Jinora said. "Doesn't anyone know that most of them are orphans?"

"I guess, but that doesn't seem to be stopping anyone," Shung said sadly. "Anyway, I'll be seeing you tomorrow, Miss Wen."

Jinora nodded, managing a small smile. "Right. Say hi to the Missus for me, Shung."

"Of course. Have a good evening!"

Jinora waved him off, then looked back to her clean desk and sighed softly. If her father and so many other newspaper publishers were raising prices, it couldn't be hurting those boys too badly, right?

She could only silently hope so, as she left the building and walked to Korra's small, brightly-lit theatre. Jinora tried to bat the thought away as she stepped around puddles on the sidewalk.

Still, something about the news still troubled her, no matter how much she tried to ignore it.


	5. The Theatre

"Paper! Evening paper!" Mako tried to offer his last copy to a man passing by in a three-piece suit, who walked past as if he wasn't even there. Kai snickered softly.

"Sing 'im to sleep, why don't ya?" Kai laughed, snatching the paper from Mako's hands. The older boy simply frowned as Kai started waving around that last paper. "Extra! Extra! Terrified flight from burning inferno! You heard the story right here!"

Mako gaped, and was about to say something when another man hurried up to Kai. "Hey! I'll buy that paper," the man said, placing a silver piece in Kai's hand. Kai gave up the paper freely and smirked over at Mako as the man left.

"You made that up!" Mako exclaimed.

"No, I said he heard it right here, and he did," Kai said, pocketing the silver piece. Mako frowned and crossed his arms at him.

"Look, I just wanted to sell some papers, I didn't come here to lie."

"Yeah? Well, I didn't come here to starve," Kai retorted. Mako rolled his eyes.

"Look, kid, just 'cause we're desperate doesn't mean we have to give up our integrity-"

"Ma'am!" Bolin's voice pierced through their conversation, and they looked over at him on the edge of the sidewalk, cradling Pabu in one arm and holding his last paper out to a young, well-dressed woman with the other, sobbing some very convincing alligator tears. "Please, buy a pape from a poor orphan boy with a dying fire ferret? Please, he's my only friend, and if he doesn't eat tonight, I might lose him…" A large tear rolled down Bolin's cheek, and Kai looked on, stunned. What was this guy doing selling papers when he could be in movers?

"Oh, poor thing… Of course I'll buy a paper," the young lady said, taking a silver piece out of her purple silk purse.

"Thank you, Miss," Bolin sobbed as he took the coin from the woman's gloved hand, allowing her to take the paper from his hand. He continued weeping till the woman was out of view, then grinned to both Mako and Kai, wiping away his tears as Pabu sprung back to life.

"That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen," Kai said, grinning as he clapped Bolin on the back. "You're a natural, I swear!"

Bolin gave him a small mock-bow. "I learned from the best."

Mako scowled. "You shouldn't be learning this stuff at all, Bo. You just scammed that poor woman-"

"And she got her news. No harm done," Kai said, shrugged dismissively. Mako shook his head. "Now, how 'bout we go grab you boys some chow, then we can split up the money there-"

"Actually, we've gotta get back home pretty soon," Bolin said, looking up at the sky. The sun hung low in the sky, painting the smoggy sky a smoky pink. "Grandma's probably making dinner right now."

Kai looked between the brothers. "So you both got folks?"

"Our parents died a long time ago," Mako said simply. "We live with our grandma, our uncle, and his family now. But our uncle was laid off when he tangled with a delivery truck on the job. So our cousins are runnin' fruit stands and we're here…sellin' papes." He sighed. "At least till Uncle Chow's leg mends again."

Kai nodded solemnly. "Makes sense. Sorry 'bout your uncle."

Mako shrugged. "He's alive, and that's what matters."

"Hey, you should come to dinner with us!" Bolin exclaimed while Pabu ran along his arms. "Our grandma's a great cook."

"You'd let me?" Kai asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked to Mako. He swore he saw a flicker of a smile on the guy's face.

"Sure," Mako said. "Our family would be happy to have you."

"Huh. Well, thanks," Kai said, tipping his hat at them, "but I made plans with some of the fellas, and they're probably waitin' up for me right now. So-"

"Uh…that's not one of the guys you're meetin', is it?" Bolin said, pointing a little past Kai.

Kai furrowed his eyebrows. "What…?" He turned to see who Bolin was talking about, and his stomach promptly lurched once he recognized the figure. " _Run_."

"FONG!" the voice behind them boomed. The three boys broke into a sprint, their empty messenger bags trailing behind them. They turned various corners and ran down several different streets, and a stitch was beginning to form in Kai's side when he recognized a familiar flashing sign of blue and gold. It read, "White Lotus Theatre" and Kai nearly ripped out his own arm sockets pulling Mako and Bolin towards the back of the building.

He closed the door softly, then leaned against it and heaved out a sigh in the dark. Costume racks lined the walls, and soft vaudeville music wafted in.

"Kai, what _was_ that?" Mako demanded, still trying to catch his breath.

"Long Feng," Kai said through gritted teeth. "A real _sweetie_. He runs a jail for underage kids called the Refuge. The more kids he brings in, the more the city pays out. Problem is, all the money goes straight into his own pocket."

"So he picks up random kids to cash up?" Mako asked.

"Somethin' like that. As long as we don't look enough like we have a name to ourselves," Kai replied. "Do yourselves a favor and stay clear of Long Feng and the Refuge, got it?"

There was a moment of silence, the only noise in the dark changing room heavy breathing, before Kai heard Mako and Bolin say, "Got it." Kai heaved another sigh of relief.

"Who's in there?" came a woman's voice. Kai felt Mako and Bolin freeze next to him, but Kai merely smiled, recognizing the warm, low voice immediately.

The door flew open, and the bright light from outside silhouetted a short, voluptuous woman, her skirts and gaudy blue corset accentuating them in the shadows.

"No kids allowed in the theatre!" the woman called again, and Kai let out a chuckle. Mako tried to shush him, but he ignored him, stepping forward into the light.

"Not even me, Miss Korra?" he asked.

The woman tugged on a string hanging from the ceiling, turning on a large lamp in the corner. Her face was now visible, the light warm on her dark brown skin. Her blue eyes widened in recognition and her face split into a wide grin when she saw Kai.

"Kai Fong, man of mystery!" Korra exclaimed, extending her arms to him. "Get over here and give me a hug!"

Kai grinned and accepted it, laughing at Korra's tight grip on him before they pulled away.

"Where've you been keeping yourself, kid?" Korra asked, placing a concerned hand on Kai's shoulder.

"Never far from you, _Mom_ ," Kai teased, earning a swat in the arm from Korra. He turned back to Mako and Bolin, and nearly cackled at the bewildered looks on their faces. "Boys, may I present to you Miss Korra, the greatest star on the Bowery today. She also owns the joint."

"Just the mortgage," Korra clarified, extending a hand to Bolin. "Pleasure, gents."

Bolin took her hand and shook it heartily, earning a laugh from Korra. When Mako took her hand to shake it, Kai noticed something lingering in the way Mako looked at her, and he nearly hooted with laughter. His eyes were still bright and starstruck even when she let go.

"Well, feel free to stay and watch the show!" Korra said, gesturing for the boys to step out of the dressing room.

"Are you sure, Miss Korra?" Mako asked.

"I mean, if you all want to stay in here and watch my showgirls change-"

"That's fine," Mako said immediately, earning another snicker from Kai.

As they stepped out of the changing room, Kai said, "Miss Korra, we got a little situation on the street. You mind if we stay here for the night?"

Korra's smile softened. "Where better to escape trouble than a theatre? Long Feng after you again?"

"Yeah," Kai grumbled, pushing his hat into place.

"Hey, Kai, is it true that you escaped jail on the back of Governor Bumi Gyatso's carriage?" Bolin asked, coming up behind him. Kai smiled softly and nodded.

"Really?" Mako said, tilting his head in curiosity. "What was the governor doing at a juvenile jail?"

Kai slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "So happens he was runnin' for office and he wanted to show he cared about orphans and such. So while he got his mug in the pape, I got my butt in the back seat and we rode off together."

"So you know the governor?" Bolin asked.

"Nah. He never saw me," Kai said.

"He doesn't, but I do," Korra said with a grin. She led them down to the main backstage area, which held several props and a few ornately painted backdrops. A few women in bright lace bustiers walked to and fro, ignoring their new guests. "Say, Kai, when you got time, I want you to paint me more of these backdrops. This last one you did is a doozy!" She gestured to the one resting against the wall. It was an intricate mural of a forest in autumn, with thick brushstrokes of blue, pink, and yellow making up the sky, and smaller, more careful brushstrokes making up each tree and fallen leaf. Mako's fingers traced one of the trees lightly, and Bolin let out an awed, "Oooh," as Pabu scampered along the top of the mural, squeaking approvingly.

"I'll be sure to soon, Korra," Kai grinned.

"Folks love it," Korra gushed. "And you know, things have been going so well in the theatre that I can actually afford to pay you this time-"

"Korra. I'm not taking your money," Kai insisted. Korra threw up her hands and shook her head.

"Well if you ever need it…"

"Kai, you painted this?" Bolin said in hushed awe.

"What? Yeah," Kai said, shrugging nonchalantly.

Korra grinned widely and turned to Bolin and Mako. "Your friend's quite the artist."

Kai rolled his eyes. "Don't get carried away, it's just a bunch of trees."

"Kai, no, this is… _really_ good," Mako said, finally taking his hand off the painting. "You've got real talent."

Kai shrugged again, an embarrassed smile spreading along his face. Korra slung an arm around his shoulders.

"Boy's got natural aptitude," Korra beamed. Kai opened his mouth to grumble something back when the stage manager walked in.

"Korra, you're on!" he called. Korra smiled and straightened out her skirts before flashing the boys one more smile.

"Feel free to stay as long as you need. Some of the press boxes should be empty, if you wanna watch the show from there. You need anything, just ask my stage manager here." Korra clapped the timid-looking man on the back.

Kai tipped his hat at Korra. "You're the best."

"You know it!" she called after them as her stage manager led her out onstage. Kai turned back to the brothers only to catch Mako smiling softly after her. Kai raised an eyebrow at him.

"She sure is something, ain't she?"

Mako ripped his gaze from Korra's back to the floor and coughed. "Yeah. She's nice. I guess."

Kai shook his head and chuckled softly to himself. "C'mon, guys. Let's go find a seat."


	6. The Press Box

As much as she loved Korra, Jinora couldn't bring herself to appreciate any of the music that was played on the Bowery. Ever.

She jotted down a few lines in her notepad about the lighting, the sets, the beautiful backdrops, and the sound quality, her eyes flitting from the words on her page to the stage. Jinora tried to stifle a yawn when she heard the door to her press box open.

She stiffened, and the hairs on the back of her neck tingled. Jinora swiftly turned around to see who the intruder was, and she swore her heart stopped for a moment when she recognized the boy standing in front of the door as the same boy that had tried to chat her up earlier that morning.

He grinned at her, and Jinora wasn't sure whether to scream or scold him. His bright green eyes shone in the darkness, his white teeth glinting against his dark skin.

"Well hello again," he said in a low, smooth voice. Jinora shivered as he took the seat next to her.

"How are you…?" Jinora simply stared at him. "This is a private box, you know."

"Then why didn't you lock the door?" He continued grinning at her, and Jinora had to look away. She didn't answer. "We've met twice in one day now," the boy continued. "You'd think that's fate."

"If you want to charm some poor, unsuspecting girl senseless, that's your business, but right now, I'm working," Jinora said, turning her attention back to the show. She jotted a quick note down – _Sometimes the sound is sucked up by the dome in the ceiling_ – when the boy spoke again.

"So you admit I'm charming?"

Jinora flushed, and she looked away, hoping he didn't notice how her cheeks had pinkened. "I said I'm _working_."

"A workin' girl, huh? Doin' what?"

"Reviewing a show for the _Republic City Sun_." She tried not to sound too self-important when she said it, but she couldn't quite help the note of pride that rang in her voice. She'd worked hard to join the _Sun_. She was not only the only woman on the team, but also the youngest reporter. She had every right to be proud.

"No kiddin'?" the boy said, and Jinora felt warmth surge through her when she caught his impressed tone. "What a coincidence; I work for the _World_!"

"Hawking headlines? Impressive," she said dryly. She jotted down another note about the backlights. "Why don't you go tell someone who actually has the time to bat her eyelashes at you?"

"The view's better here," the boy replied simply. Jinora's face grew warmer. Stupid attractive newsboy.

She looked up at him, surprised at the depth in his bright green eyes. "Please, I'm not in the habit of speaking to strangers."

The boy raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. "You're gonna make a lousy reporter, then." Jinora scoffed and turned back to her notepad. As if that would get him to relent. "The name's Kai Fong." She looked up at him slightly, and found his hand extended towards her.

"Is that what it says on your rap sheet?" Jinora snapped, before looking back to her notepad. She nearly regretted sounding so harsh when the boy simply laughed.

"A smart girl, huh? You know, I admire smart girls. Beautiful, smart, independent-"

Jinora turned to face him, only to find his face alarmingly close to hers. She leaned away slightly, her breath catching in her throat. "Do you mind? Look, as much as I'd _love_ to keep playing this little game of cat and mouse we've got going, I have a 10 'o clock deadline tomorrow morning and-"

"Hey!" A man's voice from the box near them snapped them both out of their conversation. "Keep it quiet over there!"

Jinora winced, mouthing a "Sorry" before turning her attention back to her notepad. "Look, you can stay if you want," she whispered to the boy, "just let me work."

"Fine," the boy whispered back, his smile never faltering. "You ever seen Miss Korra's show before?"

"Yes," Jinora replied, looking back at the show. Korra had just sung a rather suggestive lyric and Jinora jotted down another note about it, remembering that most minors weren't allowed inside the theatre. "Korra's a family friend, so I've been here for dress rehearsals before. This is the first actual performance I've seen of hers."

"You know Korra, too? No kiddin'! I help with the backdrops."

"Spectacular," Jinora replied absentmindedly, her focus now on the dancing. She noted something about how tacky the dancing was, figuring it she would remember how risqué the choreography was even if she didn't make a note of it. She wrote down a few more notes and turned over to a new page when she realized that the boy hadn't said anything in a while. Not that she should be concerned with some random newsboy trying to chat her up.

She looked up to see him scribbling on the copy of the Sun she'd brought with her, his eyes flitting between her and the paper. She nearly screamed at him. Who did this boy think he was? He couldn't just scribble on strangers' newspapers, even if it was from last week. Where did he even get that piece of charcoal? Did he just carry that around everywhere? What kind of boy just carried around a stick of charcoal? And why did he have to look at her so intently?

"What are you doing?" Jinora hissed. He gave her a bemused smile.

"Shh," he said, bringing a charcoal-smudged finger to his (frankly, rather nice-looking) lips. "Quiet down. There's a show goin' on."

The corners of Jinora's lips tugged up despite herself, and she immediately pursed her lips to resist the urge to smile. "You are the most impossible boy-"

"Shh!" he said again, his eyes twinkling at her. This time, she let a smile slip and rolled her eyes.

"- _ever_."

"Maybe, but the fact is, you're still talkin' to me."

Jinora bit her lip. "Whatever. Look, just leave page five readable. I still need it."

"Oh, I was plannin' on leaving the whole thing for you," the boy said simply. Jinora tilted her head at him, before turning back to the show. She had gone through five more pages of notes when she heard the door shut behind her. She looked over, startled. When had he decided to leave?

Curious, she picked up the newspaper, and couldn't help the smile that split her face.

On the front page was a portrait of her, the likeness unmistakable if a little more stunning than she cared to believe she was in reality. Wisps of hair were drawn falling in front of her face, and her eyes were drawn to look almost as if they were shining with focus. She blushed slightly when she noticed that the most detail had gone into her eyes and her lips, the latter curved down into a focused line. The shading was impeccable, and the expression was so full of life that Jinora almost swore the drawing was breathing. Below the portrait was a note in scratchy writing, and she nearly laughed out loud upon reading it.

 _Nice talking to you, Miss Reporter. Hope fate brings us back together soon._

Jinora smiled softly. _We'll see, Mr. Fong_ , she thought to herself. _We'll see_.


	7. The World Will Know

It sure was an interesting morning.

Even when the Chou brothers had opened the gate for them (with quite the scowl, Kai noticed gleefully), the headline still wasn't up.

"The sirens kept me up all night," Otaku complained behind him.

"Sirens are like lullabies to me," Skoochy replied. "The louder they wail, the better the headline. And the better the headline, the better I eat. And the better I eat-"

"The farther away I sleep from you," Kai interrupted, earning a solid whack on the arm from Skoochy's crutch. Kai laughed and gave Skoochy a good shove back when Mako and Bolin came running in.

"Mornin' everybody," Mako said, offering some semblance of a smile. "Sorry we're late, fellas, we had to help our grandma with something."

The envious hush that fell over many of the newsies was almost too much, and Kai tried to fill the silence. "Mornin', fellas!" He waved them over, hoping they didn't notice the very telling sore spot that was common amongst most of them. "Headline still ain't up. First-class operation we've got goin' here, huh?"

Mako smiled slightly. "Well, hopefully it's good."

"So!" Bolin piped up. "How's it goin' for everyone today?"

Skoochy shrugged. "Ask me once the headline's up."

Out of the corner of his eye, Kai caught Zhao walking towards the large chalkboard near the gate and nudged Skoochy. "Looks like it's goin' up now."

The group of boys walked over to the chalkboard and read the blocky letters, which didn't seem concise enough to make a headline, but caught their attention all the same. Once it was read, a chorus of indignant shouts rose over the crowd.

On the sign was written, "New newsie price: 60 pieces per 100."

Mako furrowed his eyebrows. "Is that news?"

"It's news to me!" Skoochy exclaimed. "What gives 'em the right to jack up the price of the papes?"

"I could eat two days on ten pieces," Otaku said sadly, bringing a hand to his stomach.

"Like Gyatso and Tarrlok don't make enough already!" another boy scoffed.

"This has gotta be a gag," Kai tried to reassure everyone. "C'mon, let's just go get our papes, Zhao's probably messin' with us for our tangle with the Chous yesterday." The boys grumbled, but they followed Kai to the stand anyway, where Zhao was waiting for them with a simpering smile.

"Mornin', boys," he said. "Line up."

Kai was the first in line. He slapped a gold piece on one of the stacks. "Good joke," he said, not sounding at all amused. "Zhao, you got these fellas goin'. Now I'll take my 100 and be on my way."

Zhao shot him a smug grin. "Better cough up a silver piece on top of that, then."

Kai frowned. "You're kiddin'!"

"Do I look like I'm kiddin'?"

"I ain't payin' no 60!" Kai grumbled.

Zhao gestured to the line behind him. "Then make room for someone who will."

Kai snatched his gold piece away. "Then you bet me and the fellas will hike over to the _Journal_." He turned to the line behind him, who all gave an affirmative shout.

"Ain't worth the walk," Jun grumbled. "I heard they hiked up their price, too."

"Then we'll go to the _Sun_ ," Kai answered, crossing his arms over his chest. Zhao sniggered at them.

"All around town, boys. New day, new price."

Kai stared in disbelief, annoyance bubbling within as he demanded, "Why the jack up?"

Zhao gave him a noncommittal shrug. "For those kinds of answers, you gotta ask the runner of the food chain. So, ya buyin'? Or are you movin' along?"

Kai stared at the newspapers, his messenger bag feeling oddly empty at his side. "Just a moment," he mumbled, turning to the other boys. He gestured to them to gather around one of the wagons.

"They can't just do that, can they?" Otaku asked.

"Why not? It's their paper," replied a boy called Lee.

"Their world," a boy nicknamed Blue grumbled.

"We ain't got no rights," Lee said bitterly.

"We got the right to starve!" Skoochy exclaimed, his voice taking on heights Kai hadn't heard it take on in at least five years. "Let's just get our papes and hit the street while we can."

"At those prices?" Lee asked.

"We've got no choice," Skoochy sighed. He began to hobble back to the stand, but Kai shot out an arm, blocking Skoochy.

"No. No one's payin' no new number." Kai slowly took his arm away, and though Skoochy didn't try to go ahead anyway, it still didn't keep him from giving Kai a pointed look.

"You got an idea?" Lee asked.

"Just keep your shirt on, we can think this through," Kai said.

"Well then, what's your angle?" Skoochy asked. A few more boys began to lean in expectantly, peppering Kai with more questions that he barely caught.

Bolin began waving his arms around, shooing boys away from Kai. "Stop crowding him!" he exclaimed. "Let the man work it out!" Boys left and right held up their hands and stepped back, and Kai was secretly thankful for the room as he crossed his arms and looked up in thought.

If every newspaper in Republic City was raising their prices, that meant every newsie around was feeling its sting. And if every newsie was dealing with it…

"Kai? You still thinking?" Bolin checked. Kai scrunched his eyes closed at the interruption.

"'Course he is," Skoochy said. "Can't you smell smoke?"

Kai opened his eyes and gave Skoochy a small shove before beckoning the other boys closer to him. "Alright, here's what we're gonna do. If we don't sell papes, no one sells papes. No one gets them out there until they put the price back where it belongs."

"You mean like a strike?" Mako's voice cut clear through the clutter in Kai's mind, and he grinned at him.

"You heard Mako!" he called out to the other newsies. "We're on strike!"

The other boys began chattering excitedly, and Kai looked out contentedly at his handiwork when Mako grabbed his arm.

"Kai, I did _not_ say-"

"Mako, it's okay," Kai said. "I got this." He shrugged Mako's hand off and turned back to the crowd. "We're gonna shut down this place, just like the trolleys were shut down because of the workers!"

"Yeah, then the cops'll bust our heads," Skoochy said, frowing. "Halfa them strikers are laid up with broken bones."

"The cops aren't gonna care about a bunch of kids," Kai assured him. "Right, Mako?" He nudged the older boy, and Mako immediately threw up his hands.

"Leave me out of this!" he yelled. "I'm just here trying to feed my family."

"What, like the rest of us are on playtime?" Kai shot back. "Just because we only make copper pieces doesn't give them the right to up and rub our noses in it!"

Mako pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know, but…" He looked back at Kai. "Look, it doesn't even matter. You can't strike. You're not a union."

Kai crossed his arms. "And what if I say we are?" It hardly mattered that Kai barely knew what exactly a Union was; if they needed it, he would make it happen.

Mako shook his head at him. "No, kid, you don't…" He sighed. "There are a lot of things you need in order to be a union. Like membership."

Kai snorted, and gestured to all the boys around them. "What do you call these guys?" They cheered affirmatively.

"Okay, well, you also need officers."

Skoochy raised Kai's hand for him. "I nominate Kai president!" he yelled, and more cheers sounded from the crowd. Kai beamed as he gave them all a few silly, exaggerated bows, but doubt crawled into his throat. Him, president? He'd expected they'd nominate one of the older boys, Mako most likely. Even if he was new, at least he knew what he was doing. What he was talking about. But from the look on his face, Kai figured he wouldn't accept the nomination, and no one else was being nominated. He gulped, avoiding Mako's eyes.

"Fine," Mako said. "But you also need a statement of purpose."

Kai tried not to wince. Mako got him there.

He laughed dismissively. "I must've left it in my other pants," he joked. Mako didn't laugh.

"What's a statement of purpose, anyway?" Skoochy asked. Mako pinched the bridge of his nose again, his jaw tensing as if he was dealing with a particularly stress-inducing child.

"A statement of purpose is a reason for forming the Union," he said.

"Well, what reason did the trolley workers have?" Kai asked, trying to keep his voice level.

"Wages? Work hours? Safety on the job?"

"Yeah, like we don't need that," Kai said. "I bet if your uncle had a union, you wouldn't have to be out here sellin' papes right now."

Mako looked up, the frown on his face softening. "Well… Yeah," he managed.

"So," Kai said, raising his voice, "our union is hereby formed to watch each other's backs! Union, we stand!" He threw up a fist, and as the other boys cheered, Kai smiled to himself. "Hey, that's not half bad… Someone write that down."

"I've got a pencil," Bolin offered. Kai chuckled, clapping Bolin on the back.

"Well then, meet our secretary of state!" Kai exclaimed, giving Bolin's shoulder a squeeze. Another cheer sounded, but Mako just stood there with his arms crossed.

"If you wanna strike, the membership's gotta vote."

Kai shrugged. "So we'll vote." He took a stack of old newspapers off the wagon and stood on it, then looked over the other newsboys, their faces grimy and tired as his. A wave of uncertainty washed over him as he looked at their mugs, but he was also hit with a sense of purpose. These guys were looking to him, whether he liked it or not. He took a deep breath, then called out over the crowd, "Whaddaya say, fellas? The choice is yours. Do we let Tarrlok and Gyatso pick our pockets, or do we strike?"

A strange sense of pride welled up in him as the boys pumped their fists in the air and yelled, "STRIKE!"

Kai turned back to Mako, his chest heaving. "You heard the boys of the membership. The newsies of lower Maozi Hei are officially _on strike_!"

Whoops and cheers bubbled from the crowd, hats were tossed into the air, and Kai grinned so wide he thought his face might split. This was _happening_. He wasn't sure how they'd make it, but he knew, somehow, he'd get them through this. He _had_ to get them through this.

"So…if we're strikin'," Skoochy said beside him, "doesn't someone in charge gotta know about it?"

The cheering died down, and sounds of agreement rose from the boys. Kai caught several nodding heads, and he nodded back. "Okay, who tells Tarrlok and Gyatso?" A small smile crept onto his face as he turned back to Mako. "What do you think?"

Mako eyed him carefully, before scanning over the rest of the newsies, his eyes landing on Bolin last. Kai almost couldn't read him for a moment, when Mako smiled – actually _smiled_ – and placed a hand on Kai's shoulder. "I guess you do…Mr. President."

Kai beamed at him. "I guess I do." Then, his smile faltered as he asked, "What…what exactly would I tell 'em?"

"Well, the newspaper owners need to respect your rights as employees," Mako prompted.

"So…Tarrlok and Gyatso have to respect the rights of the kids in this city," Kai tried. Mako smiled and nodded.

"They can't just change the rules when they feel like it."

"That's right!" Kai said, gaining confidence with each word. His voice rose back to its initial volume. "We do the work, so we get a say!"

"YEAH!" The newsies' intermingled voices were like music to Kai's ears, and he felt his spirit soaring.

"We've got a Union, then!" Mako said, his voice light with laughter. He was smiling from ear to ear now, and he gave Kai's shoulder a friendly squeeze. Kai grinned back at Mako, before turning his attention back to the newsies. They were on fire now.

"Tarrlok and Gyatso think we're nothin'!" he bellowed. "Are we nothin'?"

"NO!" The chorus of Newsies' voices would never not be invigorating.

"They need to understand that we're not enslaved to them!" Mako yelled. "We are free agents!"

"Tarrlok and Gyatso think they got us!" Kai cried. "Do they got us?"

"NO!"

"We're a Union now!" Mako yelled. A righteous fury rushed through Kai, and he allowed Mako a place on his makeshift newspaper stand, brimming with camaraderie. "We're the newsboys Union, and _we mean business_!"

The crowd of boys were roaring now, and Kai almost caught Zhao behind the stand shaking where he stood. He looked straight over all of them, holding his head high. His words flowed freely from his mouth now, each syllable dropping in time with the steady pounding of his heart.

"They may own the _World_ , _but they don't own us_! They may crack the whip, _but they won't whip us_! Either they give us our rights, or we give them a war! 'Stead of hawkin' headlines, we'll be makin' em today! If they think they can kick us out, or take away our vote, or keep stuffing this garbage down our throats, they've got another thing comin'! We are _done_ allowin' these bastards to beat us into the ground! We are _done_ lettin' the big guys in charge shove our noses in it! We are gonna meet them toe to toe and we ain't lettin' up until they give us the rights we deserve! The _World_ will know that we are _done_ being stomped on! The _World_ will know that _the newsies are here and we're not givin' in_!"

Mako let out a cry of affirmation beside him, and Kai almost didn't mind how it nearly deafened him as the others joined in, throwing their fists and hats into the air.

They were a Union. They were going to stand, they were going to kick ass, and they were gonna let the world – yes, _the_ world – just how formidable a bunch of newsboys could be.


	8. The First Strike

Kai hit the ground with a grunt, his face pressing into the concrete sidewalk. He heard Mako and Bolin thud beside him, and turned over to sit on his bottom. He looked up at the cop glaring down at all of them.

"And stay out!" the pudgy old man bellowed, shutting the door loudly. The three boys stood up as the other newsies gathered around them.

Bolin faced the door and took a deep breath. "You can tell Tarrlok and Gyatso that a few days into the strike, he's gonna be beggin' for an appointment to see me! You got it?" he yelled at the door.

Mako placed a careful hand on Bolin's shoulder. "Bro, they can't hear you."

Bolin looked up at Mako and shrugged. "I still think they got it."

Kai rubbed the bruise he felt forming on his hip. "Well, that went about as well as expected."

"Hey, they got the message," Mako assured him. "Now we just keep strikin', keep planning ways to get the message across, and as long as we keep at it, all the newspaper owners will have to cave eventually."

Kai smiled. "Yeah. You're right. Just… Damn, I never thought not workin' would be so much…work."

Mako snorted. "C'mon, let's get down to business, kid."

The one good thing about Narook's Seaweed Noodlery was that Narook himself didn't seem to mind having customers that could only pay for water. As good as a big bowl of noodles sounded, no one had the money for it, especially with the strike. The old, stocky man walked by setting down glasses of water for his young guests, the wrinkles in his eyes pinching closer together as he smiled at each of them. Even if he was old, Kai had to admit to himself that he was an absolute saint for allowing a bunch of dirty kids to use his restaurant as a meeting place. It wasn't like it was ever crowded, anyway; as Mako had told him, poor old Narook had the cooking skills of a master chef and the marketing skill of a rat spider.

"Well," Mako said, raising his glass of water, "I'd say we launched our strike in a most auspicious manner."

The room was pin-drop silent as almost every other in the room wracked their brains trying to figure out what the heck that word meant (Was it good? Was it bad? Who the hell knew?) when Skoochy said, "Yeah, I don't know about _that_ , but we sure scared the bejeezus outta Zhao!" The other boys cheered their agreements. "Did you see the Chous on our way out?" Skoochy continued with a bark. "They didn't know which way was up!"

"Yeah, that was pretty great," Kai grinned, nudging Skoochy in the side. "So what's next?"

"Well, now we have to spread the word," Mako said. "Let the rest of the city's newsies know about the strike."

Various boys began claiming different areas of Republic City to cover, organizing themselves into little groups, and as the chatter and glasses of water continued to flow, Kai found they were covering a good amount of ground. They'd just chosen Lee to lead a group through Mu Fang and Yao wanted to lead a group through both the Bowery and the Yemas when the vast area of Xi Lin came up, and the room went silent.

"Come on, guys, Jet's turf? Tell me you ain't scared of Xi Lin," Kai said.

"I ain't scared of no turf!" one of the boys exclaimed, rising to his feet. "It's just… Jet kinda makes me jittery." He sank back down into his chair, and the other boys murmured in agreement.

Kai rolled his eyes. "Fine, me and Mako will take care of Xi Lin," he said. Mako's head whipped around toward him.

" _Me_?"

Kai gave him a pointed look. "Yeah, you."

"No way, I'm not-"

"Why is everyone so scared of Xi Lin?" A new voice came from near the entrance of the noodlery: a female voice. Not just any female voice: a voice that was soft and refined, a voice that belonged in a place fancier than Narook's. Heads turned and chairs scooted along the floor to face the newcomer. Kai raised his head too, following the sound of light, heeled footsteps clicking against cold concrete. His eyes met a very familiar reporter's, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips before he even realized it.

"What are you doin' here?" he asked. The girl's lips twitched upwards briefly.

"Asking a question," she said. A notebook was tucked into her arm, and a pen stuck out from behind her ear.

"Xi Lin is the largest area in Republic City," Kai said as he looked her over. "You got Xi Lin, you got the motherlode."

"I see."

She took a few slow steps closer to him, tilting her head slightly as if trying to decide what to make of him. Her short brown hair curled around her face as she tilted it, her eyebrows gently knitting together in focus. He felt his heart catch in his throat and gulped it down with a sip of water immediately, almost irritated at the way he responded to her presence. He brushed it off, figuring it was normal; she was the first girl in a long time that had caught him on an off day, and a reporter of the rival paper to boot. Of course he was a little self-conscious around her. Who wouldn't be?

"Say, as someone who works for the _Sun_ , you're spendin' an awful lot of time around the _World_. What's that about, huh?" His lips quirked up into a smirk. "Are you followin' me?"

Kai thought he caught a hint of red rising to the apples of her cheeks, but figured it was just a trick of the light when she said "No," so immediately. "The only thing I'm following is a story." She opened up her notebook and poised her pen over it before scanning the group around her, an acute focus beaming from her bright brown eyes. She stopped once her eyes met Kai's again. "A rag-tag group of ragamuffins wants to take on the king makers of New York," she rattled off so quickly it almost made Kai's head spin. "Do you think you have a chance?"

Kai's smile faded. Did he think they had a chance? Now that she mentioned it, he wasn't sure. He certainly hoped they did. But did he think it? If Mako didn't have that stick up his ass, maybe he could lead them through just fine. But him?

He found he didn't really want to think about it, so he just said, "Shouldn't you be at the ballet?"

The reporter gave him a mocking pout. "Aw, is the question too difficult? Okay, I'll rephrase: Will the richest and most powerful men in New York give the time of day to a gang of kids who haven't got a copper piece to their name?" Her eyes bore into his, almost invasively, and even if she was a reporter, Kai found something off-putting about it and dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Hey, no need to be insultin'," Skoochy said with a pout. He dug a coin out of his pockets and held it up for her to see. "I got a copper piece."

The reporter then smiled. "So I guess you could say you're a bunch of Davids taking on a Goliath."

"Um, we never said that," Mako said, standing up.

The reporter turned to him. "You didn't have to." Her smile then widened, and she looked nowhere in particular, as if speaking to herself. "Because I did."

Kai stood out of his chair suddenly and took great strides over to the reporter. "You know, I've read a lot of papes in my day, and I never heard of any girl reporters writing hard news."

The girl then whirled around to face him, her eyes honing in on his, a flash of vexation gleaming in her eyes. Even though she had to look up to make eye contact with him, he still somehow felt very, very small when she looked at him like that.

"Wake up to the new century. The game's changing." Her eyes flashed again, but this time she managed a tight smile. "How about an exclusive interview?"

Kai crossed his arms. "Ain't your beat entertainment?"

"Oh, this is entertaining," the reporter half-chuckled, "so far."

Kai dropped his arms to his sides and took a step towards her. "What was the last news story you wrote?"

She took a step towards him. "What was the last strike you organized?" Kai's eyebrows raised in mild surprise at her quick tongue, and the reporter gave him a self-satisfied smile.

"I'd say we save any exclusive for a real reporter." The reporter's smile dropped at the sound of Mako's voice, and she turned on him so quickly that Kai nearly feared for Mako's life.

"Do you see anyone _else_ giving you the time of day?" She let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, I know I'm just busting out of the social pages." She turned back to Kai, her eyes now soft and sincere. "But give me the exclusive, let me run with the story, and I promise I'll get you the space."

Kai studied her carefully. Then, taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth to answer, when Skoochy asked, "You really think we could be in the papes?"

The reporter's eyes sparkled with glee as she turned her head towards Skoochy and nodded. "Shut down a newspaper like the _World_ , and you're gonna make the front page."

"You want a story?" Kai grinned as the reporter turned back to face him, her eyes shining in earnest. "How about this: sit in on the rest of this meetin', then be at the circulation gate tomorrow mornin' and you'll get one."

The reporter grinned, genuinely this time, and said, "I'll do you one better and even bring a camera tomorrow."

"Perfect," Kai said, extending his arm towards a nearby seat. Her smile shrunk back to the cool, collected one he'd known from before, but he could still see the excitement in her eyes as she sat down and opened her notebook. He took a seat next to her, and the meeting went on as before.

Well, almost. The reporter could've stood to be less distracting with her…face, but Kai found he didn't mind. The way her pen made small, quick scratching noises against the paper was almost rhythmic, and every time he glanced back at her, practically glowing with purpose and focus, it almost made Kai feel like he was catching some of her light, too.

Of course, that was probably just because he was excited about getting all their mugs in the paper. And making the front page. Yeah. That was probably it.


	9. Watch What Happens

"Come on, Bo, grandma's waiting."

Jinora watched the boys file out of Narook's, following close behind the one that had very nearly gotten her blood boiling. _I'd say we save any exclusive for a_ real _reporter_. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. She couldn't believe the nerve of some boys.

Once they were out, the same boy turned toward her, and she immediately shot him a challenging look, daring him to imply that she was anything but a serious reporter again.

"Hey," he said, "look, I didn't mean to offend you with my comment in there. You seem like a real smart girl, I just-"

"I am," she replied coolly. "And more. None of you will regret having me run this exclusive. I promise."

The boy smiled softly. "I'll hold you to that, Miss…?"

"G- Wen," she said, fumbling over the penname. "But you can call me Jinora."

The boy nodded, extending a hand towards her. "Mako."

She took it and gave it a firm shake. "Nice to meet you."

"And I'm Bolin!" a voice behind her chimed in. She turned around to see a boy with a much easier smile, and she had to return it. She shook his hand heartily.

"Anyway, we've both got to get going, but we'll see you tomorrow," Mako said, taking hold of his little brother's arm.

Jinora nodded. "You can count on it."

She watched them leave for a moment, before turning back to the entrance of Narook's. The sidewalk was almost completely empty save her and, of course, the leader of the newsboys' strike. Kai Fong. He leaned against the space of wall next to the door, his hat tilted ever so slightly on his head. The sides of it were crudely shaven, but otherwise, Jinora had to admit to herself that, really, he wasn't bad to look at. At all.

And the cocky little son of a gun knew it, too.

With a deep breath, she approached him slowly, forcing her features into a friendly, but neutral expression. She had to keep demeanor warm, but at the same time had to remain businesslike, professional. She _was_ a professional.

"So… What's your story?"

The boy with the messy dark hair and dusky skin looked up at her with bright green eyes that twinkled as if to say, "Wouldn't you like to know?" and Jinora found herself pursing her lips slightly to keep herself from smiling. Just because he was charming enough to be the leader of the newsboys' strike didn't mean she'd give him the satisfaction of being charmed herself.

"My story?"

"Your story," Jinora repeated, tearing her eyes away from his lopsided grin to the notebook in her hand. "Are you selling papers to work your way through art school?"

Kai snorted. "Art school? You're kidding me, right?"

Jinora looked up at him, her eyebrows raised in mild surprise, before she slipped a hand into the pocket of her skirt and pulled out the piece of old newspaper that held a pencil-drawn portrait of her: the one he'd drawn of her back in the theatre. The details of her focused eyes and the way her lips drew into a nearly straight line when she was writing were all captured perfectly in the portrait, and Jinora would have been embarrassed to admit that, yes, she had held onto this skirt-chaser's depiction of her, if it wasn't so undeniably beautiful. She unfolded it carefully and held it up for him to see.

"But you're an artist," she said. "You've got real talent. You should be inside the paper, illustrating it! Not outside the paper, hawking it."

Kai gave her a noncommittal shrug. "Maybe that's not what I want."

"Then what do you want?" Jinora's breath caught in her throat as Kai took a step closer to her, his signature crooked grin reappearing on his face as his eyes caught hers.

Their faces weren't even an inch apart when Kai said, "Don't you see it in my eyes?"

Jinora swallowed hard, heat rushing to her face as her eyes met his. She couldn't help but notice how sincere his voice and eyes were. She didn't _want_ to notice how effective it was this time around.

"…Yeah, whatever," Jinora said with a good roll of her eyes, glancing away from him as she took a step back. She hoped she wasn't blushing. This wasn't some high-end social gathering for her to find some charming boy to bat her eyelashes at; this was work, and just because this newsboy was good at working a line didn't mean she was going to forget why she was here. She was here to follow a story, not some boy with a nice smile. "Anyway… Have you always been their leader?"

Kai let out a soft chuckle and shrugged. "Maybe, but I don't see why. I'm a blowhard. Mako's the brains."

Jinora raised her eyebrows at him, then let a small smile slip through her exterior. "Modesty is not a quality I would have pinned on you."

Kai shrugged again (with the appropriate amount of humility, Jinora noticed) and asked, "You have a name?"

"Jinora…Wen," she said, her voice wavering at the surname. Kai raised an eyebrow.

"What's the matter, you ain't so sure?"

"It's my by-line," Jinora said, the businesslike tone slipping back into her voice. "The name I publish under. Now, tell me about tomorrow. What are you hoping for?" She poised her pen over the paper, ready to record whatever he had to say.

"I'd rather tell you what I'm hopin' for tonight." Jinora gaped and looked up at Kai with burning cheeks, the corners of her lips threatening to twitch upward at the lighthearted grin on his face.

"Mr. Fong-"

"I'm kidding," he said, his grin widening with sincerity. Jinora looked away, her face still burning. She was grateful when he started speaking again, and put her pen to work immediately. "Today we stopped other newsies from carryin' out the papes, but the wagons still deliver to the rest of the city. As soon as we get newsies from around the rest of the city on board, we're gonna stop the wagons."

Jinora finished off the final sentence with the firm jab of a period, then looked back up at Kai. "Are you scared?"

"Do I look scared?" Jinora rolled her eyes again at as Kai puffed out his chest, but this time let another smile slip. "But uh…" Kai's smile grew sheepish. "Ask me again when we get there."

Jinora stared at him for a moment before adding his comment to her notebook. "Good answer," she said, returning his smile. "Well, I think I've got what I need for now. Good night, Mr. Fong." She gave him a polite nod and turned to leave.

"Hey, where're you runnin'?" Kai's voice stopped her in her tracks. "It ain't even suppertime yet!"

She wished she could explain, or even stay, but Jinora remained resolute, turning back to Kai with another soft smile. "I'll see you in the morning," she said. She nearly turned to leave again, but then stopped once more to add, "And, off the record…good luck." She then took her leave, making her way out of the streets and on her way to her own home, when she heard him calling out her name. Well, her fake name.

"Hey hey hey, Wen!" Jinora stopped, but didn't turn back – she found he wasn't really asking her to. "Write it good. We've both got a lot ridin' on you."

Jinora smiled to herself, and nodded firmly enough for him to see from a distance before continuing her journey back home.

Write it good. Yes, write it good, she thought nervously, or it was back to wheezing her way through the flower show. No pressure or anything.

* * *

Jinora growled in frustration as she pulled the half-filled piece of paper out of her typewriter, crumpled it up in her hands, and threw it onto the glossy wooden floor, cleanliness be damned. There were probably at least ten rejected drafts on her bedroom floor at this point.

She stared at the oil lamp on her desk, allowing its light to burn into her eyes as she wracked her brain for the right words. In school, she'd always been told to write what she knew. If only she knew _what_ to write, or the right way to write it.

 _Come on, Jinora,_ she thought, _those boys are counting on you!_ She winced. _Those poor boys._

Exhaling through her nose, she pulled out a clean piece of paper and fed it into the typewriter. She looked at the other papers on her desk. Notes from that meeting were scattered across the desk.

She set her jaw and jabbed the first key, her fingers dancing across the typewriter's surface.

 _Newsies stop the_ World _!_

…Well, a little hyperbole never hurt anyone.

Jinora clenched her teeth, willing the next words to come. The right words. Or at least wrong words that would lead to the right words.

It should have been simple. Poor kids, mostly orphans, going up against rich, greedy sourpusses that couldn't be bothered to see the world past their own ivory towers. The story didn't even need to be sensationalized, it was riveting on its own. In fact, it practically wrote itself.

And part of Jinora prayed it actually would.

 _What am I doing?_ She eyed the notes again, her eyelids drooping in the dim light.

This should have been easy. This was the chance she'd been waiting for since she was a little girl running around writing stories about daily occurrences in her own home. This was her chance to prove she was a real reporter, not some little vaudeville reviewer. She'd been daydreaming about a story like this landing in her lap, possibly even more than being argued over by ten angry editors ("A girl?" they'd say. "It's a girl!" "How the hell?" "Is that even legal?" "Whatever, just hire her!" Jinora had played out the scene in her head a million times).

The fact was, this story had so many _layers_. As if detailing the personalities leading the strike wasn't enough, the story behind this one was even bigger: child worker exploitation. These boys and children like them were completely invisible to the more privileged crowds, and this was her chance to give them a voice. It was a big responsibility, one she didn't take lightly.

That was why she'd become a reporter. To uncover the nasty truths of the world not to scare or scandalize people, but to challenge the world to think about what could be done to make it better. That was her weapon against the injustices of the earth: words. Words, flying right off the page, straight through the mind and into the heart.

This was her chance. For those boys, for the other kids out in the world scrounging for scraps the big bosses dropped for them, for herself. This was their chance to claim the brand new century.

She took a deep breath and placed her fingers back on the typewriter, clacking away dutifully.

 _A modern-day David is poised to take on the rich and powerful Goliath,_ she typed. _With the swagger of one twice his age, armed with nothing but a few nuggets of truth, Kai Fong stands ready to face the behemoths, Tarrlok & Gyatso. _She hit the Enter key which sounded with a rich ding and smiled to herself. Now _that_ was the way to turn a boy into a legend.

She could picture readers now, imagining the image she'd concoct for them: a handsome, heroically charismatic young man, leading on his rag-tag team, his deep green eyes burning with a righteous fury, his strong jaw clenched, beads of sweat trickling down his neck as he marched into the fray, the sun beating down on his warm brown skin…

Jinora blinked a few times, for a moment thrown off by how far her mind had gone with _that_ image. Sure, he was attractive, and charming. And a plain-spoken, know-nothing, skirt-chasing, cocky little son of a-

She took another deep breath. She could not let him get to her. She _would_ not let him get to her. So he was a flirt, and a complete ego-maniac. He was also the face of the strike.

And what a face it was.

She shook her head violently, attributing her wandering mind to the late hours she was forcing herself to work. The point was, he was her key to becoming an actual reporter. To being respected for her writing and trusted to cover hard stories. If she worked her magic just right, she could even make him the face of their generation.

It was a long shot, but the possibility of being a primary builder of influence for a revolutionary of her day was almost too much for her to pass up. With his leadership and her writing, they could take Republic City by storm. Even if the world they were inheriting was dark and gloomy and unfair, all she could see now was the world they would create together: bright and warm and good.

Her fingers went back to work, pounding out words that now seemed to flow from her very core. Each word was full of weight, brimming with the idealism she knew came from being one of her generation, every stroke of the typewriter further immortalizing these young, hopeful versions of themselves. In a way, she thought, it was almost like they'd never have to make the mistake of getting old. Not the way her father's generation had. No, her words would remind them of what they were as youths, the fire in their hearts and the burning in their souls. She'd keep her generation young at heart forever.

It was only when she hit that last key and pulled the paper out of the typewriter that she grew nervous. Scared, even. She'd never covered hard news, let alone reported on something that hit so close to home. She was terrified of what could happen.

Of course, a worse alternative was having nothing happen at all. And it certainly would have if she or anyone else decided to give in.

Besides, with the possibility of winning, how could she not follow through and report the newsies' story faithfully? It was her responsibility to them. To her generation.

To herself.

She filed the story away into her briefcase, oozing with excitement and anticipation for the next day as she wriggled down beneath the silk covers of her bed. She shut her eyes, willing herself to sleep, trying to keep down the bubbling of anticipation in her stomach.

Tomorrow, she'd be given a front-row seat to the start of a revolution. And she couldn't wait to watch what happened.


	10. All For One And One For All

_A/N: This is the last chapter for a while, since I have finals coming up next week and right after that I'm on vacation for three weeks! So this fic will be on hiatus for at least a month, but don't worry, I'm still working on it!_

* * *

It was ten minutes till the circulation gate opened, and there was still barely anyone there. Just Kai, Skoochy, Mako, Bolin, and a few of the other guys that had actually bothered to come and actually strike. In spite of all the big talk they'd made yesterday evening, it seemed everyone's resolve had wavered at the mention of Xi Lin, of Jet and his crew.

"Is anyone else coming?" she asked. Kai turned around and saw Jinora, her clean yellow skirts and warm smile looking so out of place amongst the dirty-faced boys around her. He smiled back wearily.

"I got no idea," Kai said.

"Well, I have my notebook and my camera," Jinora said, and she did indeed have that same worn leather notebook from the previous night under her arm and a portable camera that looked far too heavy hanging from a strap around her small neck. "Just like I promised."

"Thanks," Kai said. "Hopefully I'll be able to make good on that story I promised you, too."

"You will," Jinora said with a slight nod, and Kai held his smile before turning to Mako.

"Hey, you talked to Jet again this mornin', right? What'd he say?"

Mako shifted uncomfortably where he stood. "Yeah, him and his gang. Uh… Well, he actually seemed to be warmin' up to our plans."

"Even seemed a little impressed," Bolin beamed, and Mako gave him a careful smile.

"So, he's with us?" Mako and Bolin's smiles faded.

"Well… That depends on how you look at it," Mako said slowly. "They still wanted to work out a few things, meet up a few more times."

"They want proof that we're not gonna fold at the first sign of trouble," Bolin added.

"We ain't, they _know_ we ain't, how-?" Kai pinched the bridge of his nose, clenching his jaw in frustration before turning to Otaku. "You were in the group that covered Midtown, yeah?"

"Yeah," Otaku confirmed. "And they're in… Once they know Xi Lin's in."

Kai scowled, before turning to Yao. "How'd folks on the Bowery and the Yemas stand?"

The lanky boy gulped, his wild hair sticking out in wiry bunches under his newsboy cap. "Same on that side too, Kai."

He growled in frustration. "Was it just like this all over? Is that why so many of the boys stayed in?"

"It doesn't sound like anyone gave us a no," Mako said. "We're just in a standstill now. Gotta wait on all the other folks."

"Maybe we should just put this off for a couple a days," Lee muttered. All heads turned towards him and he almost seemed to shrink.

"No!" Mako said. "We can't just put this off…" He turned to Kai. "Come on, say something!"

Kai's voice caught in his throat as he struggled for the right words. Hey, didn't Jinora do this for a living? He turned to her, lost green eyes meeting nervous brown ones, before they heard the rattling of a lock being undone.

The gates creaked open, and they all turned to see the Chous with slimy smiles spread along their round, red faces.

"Looks like it was bum information we got about a strike happening here today," the eldest one snickered. "Not that I'm complainin', my skull-bashin' arm could use a day of rest." His two younger brothers laughed along with him as the newsies plus Jinora walked in through the circulation gate, all sullen, disgruntled, and almost a world away from the fired-up kids they'd been the morning before. The Chous were still laughing when they left, loudly discussing the "worthless, deluded newsies" and their "good-for-nothing leader".

Jinora frowned. "They could at least pretend to be civil."

Kai smiled cheerlessly. "That was them bein' kind."

"Oh." She offered him a sad smile. "Sorry."

He shrugged. "We're used to it."

"Yeah. I'm sorry about that, too."

"Don't be." His smile grew strained. "Seriously."

Jinora was caught off-guard by a flash of hurt in his eyes and wasn't quite sure what to make of it, so she went straight to where she was comfortable: getting the scoop.

"So, Mr. Leader, have any idea what to say to your troops?"

Kai's smile faltered. "Nope."

"Come on, guys, we can't back down now," they heard Mako pleading.

"Maybe if we just don't show up for work, that'll send the message," Otaku offered weakly.

"No. They'd just replace us," Mako said. "They need to see us stand our ground. No matter who does or doesn't show, we can't back down. Whether you like it or not, now is when we take a stand." He looked over at Kai. "Tell them."

His eyes widened. "What, Mako, I-"

He felt Jinora's hand rest gently on his shoulder and nearly jumped out of his skin. She squeezed it softly and he looked at her, almost bewildered at the softness in her eyes.

"Just do whatever you did to get them fired up yesterday," she said. "I can help you find the right words if you need them, and Mako's gonna help whether you like it or not, right?"

Kai gave her a soft smile. "Right." He turned back to the boys, took a deep breath, and spoke. "Now is the time to seize the day. Not tomorrow, not a week from now, not whenever it's convenient. We don't _have_ convenience. We gotta do this now, whether we like it or not, or they'll get the idea that they can just push us around however they like."

He looked at Mako to gauge his response, and he nodded firmly at him, allowing a small smile to slip. Jinora squeezed his shoulder again.

"You're doing great," she whispered. "Keep going."

He smiled nervously, and opened his mouth to continue, when he heard a "Hey!" from Skoochy. Attention shifted to the source of the distraction, and sure enough, there were three unfamiliar-looking boys at the newsstand buying papers.

Kai scowled. "Scabs."

"What?" Jinora asked.

"Scabs. The ones that can afford to take a crap deal and won't join a strike. Granted, they're barely doin' better than us, but still," he grumbled.

Skoochy hobbled over to them. "So what? We can take 'em!"

Kai shook his head immediately. "No," he said. He raised his voice, trying to gauge the attention of the rest of the group, who were looking dangerously miffed. "No one touch 'em!"

The other newsies looked at him in alarm, when Mako joined Kai's side. "He's right. We all have to stand together, or we don't have a chance."

Kai took a step towards the Scabs, who all studied him with skepticism. He took a deep breath and took on the most sincere tone of voice he knew he could manage. "Listen… Fellas, I know someone's put you up to this. They're probably payin' you some extra money too, right?" The Scabs didn't respond. "Well, it ain't right. Them newspaper owners think we're gutter rats with no respect for nothin', includin' each other. Is that what we are? Huh?" He looked between the three boys and noticed the middle one with choppy hair that fell past his ears was eyeing his full messenger bag wearily. "If we stab each other in the back, then yeah, as far as they're concerned, that's who we are. But who do _we_ say we are? I say we ain't backstabbers. I say we got…we got…" The word was on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason was escaping him.

"Integrity," Jinora piped up, standing next to him. "You all have integrity."

Kai grinned briefly at her. "Thank you, Miss Reporter." He turned back to the Scabs. "You heard her. We got integrity. I say we know the meaning of loyalty. I say we care just as much about our fellow man – or woman -" he gave Jinora a quick glance, and she smiled, nodding for him to continue, "- as any other good person in this whole damned city, even if we happen to be too busy scrapin' by to do much charity. If we stand together, we can change the whole game. It ain't even just about us." He pointed out toward the circulation gate. "All across this city, there are boys and girls who should be out playin', or goin' to school. But instead, they're out slavin' away to support themselves or their folks." He dropped his hand looked between them. "Ain't no shame in bein' poor, and not a one of us complains if the work we do is hard. All we ask is a square deal." He looked hard at them for a moment, catching the uncertain shifting in their eyes. He almost had them. "Fellas, for the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory, and slaughterhouse in this town, I beg you. Throw down your papers and join the strike."

The Scabs looked amongst themselves doubtfully, the silence between them and the rest of the boys so thick and heavy that Kai nearly felt himself suffocating.

"…Please?" Bolin said quietly.

Then, the middle Scab walked up to Kai, stared at him hard, and then he grinned. "I'm with you."

Kai could feel the tension leave his body as the Scab took his stack of papers out of his messenger bag and threw it to the ground. A cheer ripped through the crowd as he then yanked his messenger bag off over his head and threw it to towards Zhao.

His friends stared at him in shock. "Are you serious?"

"Who're you gonna trust?" he shot back. "Them," he said, gesturing to the newsies, "or the Chous?"

The two remaining Scabs looked at one another hesitantly, before their newspapers and bags joined the rest in the dirt. Mako and Bolin welcomed them into the group of strikers with open arms, and the boys cheered, leaving to stand outside the circulation gate together.

The newspapers that had been purchased were passed along to everyone, so that every person got at least one copy. Jinora ran a little distance away to make sure she got a good view of everyone, and just as the newsies began to rip their papers, she snapped a photo, and then again when they all crumpled up the ripped pages and tossed them into the air.

The cheering threatened to deafen Jinora and she almost didn't care as she watched from her spot on the sidewalk, drinking in the history happening before her very eyes. As late-comers to the circulation gate trickled in, either Mako or Kai would convince them to join the strike, one by one, offering papers to rip up. They didn't miss a single person, and it only took a few moments for their little group to grow into an admittedly formidable crowd of young men.

She didn't even notice Kai had left the crowd until he was standing right in front of her, holding out a copy of the _World_ 's latest issue.

He grinned at her. "Take it. Rip it up."

Jinora tilted her head at him. "What-"

"Ain't you part of this, too?"

Jinora looked between him and the paper in his hands. "Kai, it really isn't my place, I mean, I'm just a reporter, I work for a paper for Christsakes-"

"The _Sun_. You don't work for this one," he said with a soft smile.

"This is your cause. Really. I don't want to intrude, I feel bad enough that the _Sun_ 's raised their prices too and it doesn't feel right to just wheedle my way into what's your fight."

"You're sayin' this ain't your fight, too? You're sayin' that you, a young, female reporter, haven't been stepped on at all by any of the people you work for?"

Jinora pursed her lips and stared hard at the paper in Kai's hand. She thought of herself a year ago, barely 15 years old, getting laughed at when she didn't know how to refill the office's typewriters. She thought of all those months of being forced to take people's lunch orders before even being allowed to type one word. She thought back to every time her parents had tried to get her to dream smaller just to protect her from the reality of life, every time her father tried to offer her a life of leisure because he didn't believe she could get by doing what she loved. Because he didn't believe in her.

Jinora took the paper from Kai's hands and ripped it in half with such an ease and ferocity that it almost startled her. She paused, looking up at Kai with wide eyes and a pounding heart, before grinning madly as she ripped the paper up some more, into smaller and smaller pieces, until they fluttered out of her hands as monochromatic confetti.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Kai grinned down at her, and she realized she was panting.

"Yeah. Yeah, it does." She laughed softly, staring down at the newspaper remains at her feet.

"Welcome to the strike, Jinora."

"Glad to be part of it, Kai."

Her smile softened as he took her hand and led her back into the crowd, where the newsies were planning to stay at the gate till the circulation gate closed. They'd have to stand out there for two more hours, and had she been faced with the choice earlier that morning, she would have elected to come and go as she needed to, picking up bits and pieces of what she needed for her weekly deadline.

But now that she was here, and the raspy cheers of the newsies were deafening her ears, she knew that her choice couldn't have been any clearer. She was standing with them. She had to stand with them. For them, and for herself.

She was one of them now.


End file.
